Matching Beats
by Miss-Statement
Summary: "The bass was seriously painful to that space where her heart was supposed to be in her chest; each beat echoing around the cavity's walls louder than before. She could feel it, painfully screaming there inside her." In all honesty, I wrote this spur the moment in an attempt to get my creative juices flowing for another fic I'm writing. I'm going supernatural with this fic. Bechloe
1. Chapter 1

Her heart matched the heavy pounding of the bass, beat per beat; heavy, and painfully loud.

She threw back another shot.

If you were one to ask her what was wrong, you wouldn't have known that anything was wrong in the first place. Just the look of her right now at some two-bit, run-down club- drinking in abandon, seemingly carefree- matches the stereotype that is Beca.

The bass was seriously painful to that space where her heart was supposed to be in her chest; each beat echoing around the cavity's walls louder than before. She could feel it, painfully screaming there inside her. Part of her wanted to wince, another part of her wanted to cry. She didn't have a heart after tonight.

She threw back another shot.

The mass of the dancing, writhing, carefree crowd pressed in around her in various states of inebriation. Multicolored LED lights danced across their faces, casting them in hues of red and blue and yellow; flickering in the club's smoky, hot atmosphere and reflecting back down on her. She was at the bar, being pushed and pressed against eager men and women interested in having the time of their life that night. The sticky wet surface on which she leaned heavily was littered in shattered peanut shell fragments and alcohol.

Beca felt the rush of heat to her face that came with six shots of tequila and a jack and coke; her vision swam before her eyes but it wasn't enough to get rid of _H__er face _looking at her in tears, pleading at her to understand. She felt overemotional. All of a sudden, her eyes filled with water and there was a sob stuck in the back of her throat choking her. Part of her wanted to burst out in tears and heartbroken sobs. The other part of her wanted to laugh.

She threw back another shot-

And quickly realized that she'd reached her limit.

Swiftly, because even smashed she didn't want to embarrass herself, she bolted through the throng of people and rushed into the bathroom, tossing herself into a stall and having just enough time to lock it behind her before she threw up in the toilet. Again, and again, she heaved and gagged as her body violently forced the burning alcohol out. When she was done, Beca was left gasping for great ragged intakes of breath. Her body felt imbalanced. She wobbled and fell over to the side. It was impossible for her to stay grounded when the very earth beneath her seemed to be flipping inside out on itself; moving so that she couldn't sit upright. Her head crashed into the side of the stall. Without the music blasting through the air, the place where the bass had been resounding felt empty.

Beca rested her burning cheek against the coolness of the toilet seat, vaguely registering without actually caring how disgusting that action was. Her eyes couldn't focus on anything. Her mind didn't focus on anything.

Nothing but the fact that she was being used. The entire time, Beca was being used. This was all a game to _H__er. She'd _used her, hurt her. Everything about their relationship was real to Beca; all the emotions, all the moments, all the words and kisses and flirting. Before _Her, _Beca hadn't even known she'd liked girls. And then, one day, she met _Her, _and _She _was the only one that Beca ever did. It was never a game to Beca, but it was a game to _Her._

_"Please, Beca, I'm asking you to understand-"_

_"Beca, I care about you. You were never just some girl to me-"_

_"I needed to get close, because you didn't care and I had to make you care so that I could tear it all away-"_

_"I care about you; I should never have done this- but I'm in love with someone else and-"_

_"This wasn't the plan-"_

"But wasn't the plan to hurt me?" Beca mumbled to herself deliriously; the florescent lights of the bathroom burned her eyes. She had to keep blinking in order to keep her eyes open. Everything about this position, her half laying upon the floor and leaning against the side of the stall with her cheek relaxing against the toilet seat, was painfully comfortable enough for her to fall asleep in.

Before _Her, _Beca had been normal. Human. She liked guys.

But then, in the aftermath, an acidic taste in both her mouth and her broken heart was all she had left of their relationship... And another thing.

Abruptly at the thought of what _She'd _done to her, Beca burst out in hysterical, laughing, drunken sobs. She threw her head back until there was another painful thud against the stall and she sat up, tossed her arm up in a sarcastic cheer and angrily bellowed, "Great job, world! Ya made me a fuckin' dyke for life, an' tore apart my soul!" Sobbing, she smacked her head against the stall again before letting it loosely fall to her shoulder. She stretched her legs out until she knew they were peeking out from underneath the door carelessly. Sniffling, she hoarsely spoke more, "God, I'ma mess. Fuckin' lovesick fool. Pukin' all over the floor. What th' hell's the point? This was'sa bad idea, bu' 's the bes' idea I've-ever had..."

Sighing, Beca let her eyes fall shut and passed out on the bathroom floor.

* * *

**AN:**

**Hey all! I'm trying to get back in a writing mood for one of my other fics that I've been neglecting. In an effort to get the creative juices flowing, I wrote this.**

**Since I kinda like ^All that, and since I'm purposely leaving out who the "She" is that broke Beca's heart, I'm totally going to come back to this later. Hopefully then I'll be able to explain things a little more.**

**On a side note, I'm going to college soon. As in, the day after tomorrow. It's a confusing situation. All the underclassmen dorms had been filled due to renovations and crap, so I'm going to be dorming in one of the upperclassmen dorms. In a suite. With five other girls.**

**Not gonna lie, I'm totally terrified about meeting them. I'm also terrified that they're going to be all Seniors and I'm gonna be the weird, younger, new girl who's going to have to figure out this whole "college" thing on herself as they'd already figured it out.**

**Mostly it's just the meeting them, and living with a total of five of them, that's got me wide-eyed and nervous.**

**As a result of that, I might end up waiting to write any more fanfiction for a while until either I'm comfortable with them, or I know they're comfortable with it.**

**It's just... you have no idea how awkward I am around multiple new people. I can handle talking to a few people; I'll put on a brave face and get it over with. Any more than three or so make me shy, and it'll be worse if they're all upperclassmen and already know each other and I'm just the girl that they got stuck sharing a room with.**

**Maybe irrational fears, but I'm nervous about this.**

**In any case, just wanted to give you guys the heads up. For those of you familiar with my other fanfiction "Fire and Ice", I've kind of been hung up on this chapter for a while. Around life that is happening around me, as well as some personal demons that I'm facing, as well as my family's demons that I'm also facing, I've been a bit hung up and dry in the creative pool of literature. I'm trying to push through it, so I'm begging you all to please give me a bit more time to figure everything out. It's a tough situation for everyone. Thanks for your patience guys! And thanks for reading~**

**FAV IT if you liked it, or if you especially love this (or love me, because I know I'm irresistible) THEN LEAVE A COMMENT PLEASE! I'm seriously curious as to what your opinion is, and I've entirely clueless as to if you think this fic or any other I've written has a future.**

**THANKS FOR THE LOVE GUYS!**


	2. Chapter 2

_"Beca-"_

_A voice called my name, hauntingly familiar though it was one I couldn't place._

_"Beca-"_

_Lights, bright, blinding white lights glaring down at me. I wasn't sure if my eyes were open and if I was actually seeing what I was seeing._

_"Rebeca."_

_A whisper._

_I was home._

* * *

When Beca came to, it was difficult to see. Her eyes fluttered open briefly before she shut them tightly and turned her head away groaning.

Then, she almost immediately reopened them and shot up into a sitting position.

Where was her headache? The dizziness? The dry throat? Really, where were any of her symptoms of a hangover? Her hand reached up to touch the back of her head, right where it'd smashed against the stall of the bathroom multiple times. There wasn't a bump there, not a bruise. It wasn't even sore. Dumbfounded, she crossed her legs beneath her and rested her head in her hand. Upon looking at her surroundings...

She seemed to be in a hotel of some sort. In the lobby. There wasn't anyone else around; the place was practically empty. The check-in counter fostered a sign saying "Be Back in Ten". Beca must've passed out on one of the loveseats right there in the lobby the night before, though she hadn't a clue how she'd ended up here.

There were skylights overhead; the natural light blinding her again in its brilliance. There was a plush green carpet laying over delicate tan marble tiles. A large off-white couch was positioned across from where Beca sat, and to the left of her was another loveseat. Between the three chairs was an oval coffee table. There weren't any magazines on the coffee table, but there was a book. Small, with black covers; it was upside down.

Curious, Beca nearly picked it up to see what it was... however she forgot the idea when she caught a sight of the main entrance of the hotel. Large, wide, mechanically sliding glass doors that were framed under a beautifully decorative cream-colored arch featuring two smiling cherub faces. A way to leave this place (wherever she was). Fantastic.

Beca stood up to go, and started walking towards the door, when a voice called out to her from seemingly everywhere.

"I wouldn't go that way if I were you."

Beca startled, openly jumped at the noise and made a strangled cry before she twisted around to see where it came from.

There, sitting comfortably on the tall check-in counter with one leg dangling and the other slightly bent, grinning at her while munching on a deliciously red apple, was Stacie Conrad. It was a shock to Beca's system. Stacie was Beca's older half-sister by seven years. It was such a surprise because she'd been missing for over ten years.

"St- Stacie?!" Beca exclaimed incredulously. How could her sister be sitting there, right in front of her? "You don't look a day over twenty-one!" And it was true. In fact, despite her foggy memory Beca could've sworn that Stacie was wearing the clothes she'd been last seen in. The same clothes, the same hair. Rather than reply, Stacie just took another bite of her apple and flashed Beca that knowing smile that promised something Beca couldn't understand. As the juices ran down her chin from her latest bite, Stacie made sure to catch at them with her tongue before the flavor got away. "Stacie?"

After another few bites, the apple was gone and Stacie Conrad was left holding its core. She hopped down from the counter, taking a moment to stretch, before she tossed the core over to Beca. On reflex, Beca caught it in her hands. Then she almost dropped it just as quickly when she realized she was holding her sister's eaten apple core. Her face shifted from one of disgust to one of bewilderment, however, when she noticed that she wasn't holding an eaten apple.

Beca was holding one whole, delicious red apple in her hand. Smooth, shimmering, and so _tempting_ to eat.

She blinked.

"That's because I am twenty-one, Beca," Stacie said slowly, as if speaking to a child, as she moved to stand behind the check-in counter. The taller brunette quickly did away with the "Be Back in Ten" sign, turning on a computer and grabbing a clipboard with multiple sheets of paper on it in its stead.

Horribly confused, Beca dropped the apple she was holding in favor of walking over to the sister she hadn't seen in ten years. Stacie almost looked disappointed by the act, her eyes now staring longingly at the bruised apple on the ground. It's luster seemingly gone. "But- but how-"

Beca had been fourteen when her twenty-one year old sister disappeared. It's been ten years.

Stacie simply smiled.

"Stacie, where have you _been? _All these years-"

"Working. I have a job here, you know. I don't get to stop just because I want to." Rolling her eyes, she continued darkly, "And most of us don't get to leave." She smiled suddenly, her face brightening immeasurably. "But maybe you can! Let me see what you're booked for-" As Stacie was typing away at the computer, the hotel's phone rang. It was an old, refurbished 1894 European telephone. The phone clattered in its holster. It was a miracle the thing rang at all. Stacie barely spared a glance at the phone. She let it ring. And ring.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Beca inquired, brows furrowing.

Stacie laughed at the question. "No, silly. That call's for you." She made a weird face at her computer, her hands finally stilling, leaving only the phone to ring on in the silence. She spoke as if talking to herself, "Oh, Beca. What a case this is." Sighing, she turned to the other girl, "Well?"

"Well, what?" Beca was genuinely confused.

"Aren't you going to answer the phone?"

Groaning out her exasperation for her sister, who still had yet to answer her questions, Beca answered the phone, "Hello?"

For a moment, she didn't hear anything... And then.

_"Beca? Can you hear me?"_

It was _Her _voice, crackling on the other end of the line, and Beca gasped.

_"I don't know- if you can- but... I'm- I'm so sorry Beca." _The other girl swallowed on the line.

_"For everything. We're- we're going to do everything we can to help you get better."_

Beca couldn't take the other girl's voice sounding like this, broken and scared and vulnerable, no matter what _She'd_ done. "Chloe! Chloe, it's alright! I'm alright. I'll move on from this, just like every other time..."

_"I'll- I'll be with you, every step of the way. Every single step. I promise."_

"I'm fine, Chloe! I'm fine! It's fine."

_"Oh, God, Becs- This is all my fault!"_

"Chloe- I said it's okay-" Beca's eyes widened in panic as the girl who'd destroyed her burst out in sobs, just before the line when dead. All Beca heard then was the dial tone. She spun to face Stacie, whose face was stoic.

Stacie shrugged, plopping down in an office chair, crossing her arms. "We get bad reception from this side," she stated. "Most often they can't hear us."

Glaring, "Why? And how are you here? What happened to you? How did I get here? Where is here anyw-"

"Here," Stacie was laughing as she made a wide gesture. "Is limbo."

Scrunching up her nose in confusion, Beca attempted to clarify Stacie's meanign, "Like, that dance-y game limbo?"

"No. I mean limbo; as in the place called Limbo where dead people go when they don't belong in heaven or hell, or where people almost dead go to wait. People like you."

Wide eyed and unsure, "People like me?"

"Teah, you." For the first time since Beca found her sister, alive and well here (at some prissy hotel of all places) Stacie's face was deadly serious. "You're dying, Beca. That's why you're here. That's why _she_ couldn't hear you," and there was that knowing smile again. "And I'm already dead."

Beca felt like her heart was pounding in her chest, racing. What's going on? None of this is true- Stacie _can't _be dead. _Beca _couldn't be dead, or dying, or whatever she was. In an effort to calm her heart, her hand flew up to clutch at her chest... except nothing was there. She couldn't feel a beat. There wasn't a beating in her heart. That racing she felt, that pounding in her chest-

"Welcome to Hotel Limbo," Stacie's teeth were a point too bright. "Your first and only stop before heaven or hell." She winked, "I hope you enjoy your stay. You get the family discount."

-A literally phantom feeling.

* * *

**AN**

**I'm not sure that this is anything like I thought it was going to be, but I'm actually enjoying writing this. Also, any confusion about this was made purposefully. I don't want you to understand exactly what's happening just yet, though it might not be all that difficult to figure out. Keep it in mind.**

**Side note: Thanks for the support guys! Entirely worried about tomorrow, but I'll suck it up and adjust eventually. I just need a little time.**

Dracossack:

**While there admittedly isn't any direct plan into which direction this is taking, I love the supernatural and mystery just as much as you. Don't really have all that much "mystery" writing experience, so I can't promise I'll be too perfect in that aspect. But this will definitely, hopefully, be just as intriguing. I'm enjoying writing this story. Hope you continue to enjoy reading it!**

Snow White Misery:

**It's kind of funny; I say the same thing that you do. You know, "I wish I could write like you do, I really, really wish I could... but I'm only capable of reading." That sort of thing. I'm not really a fantastic writer, but I have fun with it. I just sort of write what I've got on my mind and it turns up here. Sometimes it's not particularly amazing, but it's something. I'm glad you're enjoying it. :)**

Remix-This:

**I think I'm going to be bringing Chloe into this fic in fragments; as memories or as a voice. Maybe as something more, a little major, a little later. We'll see. She's the one who broke Beca's heart; just in case I wasn't clear enough with this. Sometimes I think I'm crystal clear, and then I find out I'm not, so I don't know. Thanks for your actual, honest opinion! Glad I could spark your curiosity.**

To Everyone Else:

**Thanks for leaving a review and for the support! Thanks for the follows, and favs. I didn't think that the first chapter would get as good of a reception as it had. There's a lot for me to appreciate of your response, so please understand that I mean it sincerely when I say thank you. You can't fathom how pleasant it is and how greatful I am to receive your encouragement in both this fic and in life. So thanks. :)**

**For those of you who just started reading; thanks for reading this! If you particularly enjoyed it, or even if you didn't, I encourage you to please leave a review in the area below. Let me know what you think. I like honest opinions. Thanks again!**

**(P.S.: Terribly sorry about any grammar or spelling mistakes I wrote in the first chapter. It's just me writing this and looking over this, and it's usually extremely late at night when I get around to writing anything, so I'm not always in the best phase of mind. I'll go over and fix it eventually.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 1: Welcome to Limbo**

There was the steady, monotonous tone of the heart monitor—the only indication other than the rise and fall of her chest—that let Chloe know she was alive. How did it come to this? There was a mask over Beca's face forcing air into her lungs and helping her to breathe. Bandages stained with red were wrapped heavily around the woman's head. Her eyes were closed, face pale, as Beca laid upon the hospital bed unconscious.

Chloe blamed herself, thought there was nothing she could do now. Nothing she could do but sit by Beca's bedside and wait… and wait… Wait for Beca to wake up.

By this point, Beca was more than confused. She was mentally freaking out. She didn't understand what was going on. Stacie was making no sense. The only conclusion that Beca could come to was that this was a dream.

Stacie must've seen something in her face, as she burst out in pitiful laughter. Beca began backing away slowly as Stacie walked towards her. Something in Stacie's eyes were dangerous. Haunting.

"Dead, Beca, I'm dead! Can you believe it?" Stacie's words poured out of her mouth in a waterfall of deliriousness, hopelessness. Almost as if she herself couldn't believe her words. "Do you want to see the proof?"

Beca stumbled back and fell against the couch. As she scrambled for some sort of purchase, Stacie reached her, leaned over, and pulled the neckline of her collar down; and Beca could see the proof. The taller brunette leaned her head back to give Beca a better view of the dark bruises around her neck. Someone choked her to death.

Her voice felt nearly stolen from her, Beca, as her eyes watered up at the sight and her hands delicately reached as if to touch the imprints of hands around her sister's throat. Stacie leaned back, stood up and away from her sister's touch, and let her hand release the collar of her shirt. The sign of death was hidden from sight. "Stacie, what…?"

The other girl laughed again, emptily. "Now, now, Beca. Not on company time," she wiped at her eyes as Beca sat up. "Besides," she continued. "I'm not the new arrival here. The question's not about what happened to me, my fate is sealed, but about what happened to you." She eyed her sister curiously, "So what did happen Beca? How did you end up in Limbo?"

"I don't know," Beca replied, still stricken by the memory of those bruises around her sister's throat, the realization that her sister's dead. "Part of me still thinks this is just a dream."

Stacie offered a hand up, "Well then, we should introduce you to some of the other guests staying here." Beca took the hand which pulled her up and off the couch. Following closely behind her sister, the pair walked back over to the check in desk. "Wait here," Stacie said as she disappeared into a doorway behind the desk.

Left along, Beca stood there for a moment. She eyed a bowl of apples, thought for a moment that the apples looked delicious and appetizing, but she didn't particularly like fruit. She wasn't really hungry either. As she actively made the decision not to pick up one of the tantalizing fruit, the apples seemed to lose that delicious quality of which they first appeared to Beca. Now, they just looked plain and boring. Like a normal bowl of fruit.

Bored, waiting, Beca meandered about the lobby without going in any particular which way. She picked up the book she first saw on the coffee table and turned it over to reveal its title of, "The Holy Bible". Her nose wrinkled at the fancy script, so she set the book down again where it was on the table with the cover down.

Absently, she walked back over towards the entry way. The door had just opened, and she was just about to step outside into the brilliantly blinding light when something called down to her.

"Oi! You!"

Blinking and slightly startled, Beca turned around to see that there wasn't anyone there.

"Yeah you, Shortstack! I'm talking to you! Up here!"

Beca looked up. The two faces of the cherubs looked down at her.

"I know how you died," one spoke. "It sickens me to think—drunk, heartbroken, along—"

"Aw, shut up and mind your own!" said the other, who's voice was the first to call out to her. "She ain't dead yet—"

"As good as dead," said the first. "It's only a matter of time." It sneered at Beca, "Fag."

The other hit the first over the head, "Don't be a twat! There's nothing wrong with a little lady loving."

"It's a sin!" it hissed. "And look at those tattoos—"

"It's not our job to judge, and 'Love thy neighbor'. Turn the other cheek. Treat others as you would like to be treated."

"Heresy! She's going to go to Hell!" There was a loud crack and the cherub fell from the wall to the floor, the pieces that made up the once beautiful features shattered into a million and scattered about the room.

The other rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him, Shortstack. He's just mad 'cause he never got any." The other cherub, with its sculpted face, peered down at her and smiled. "And because I turned him down multiple times. He just doesn't get when no means no."

Beca blinked in disbelief.

"My name's Amy. I died when my boat capsized off the coast of Australia fifty years ago. I was assigned here in my death as a result." She winked and pattered her stomach, "I can't believe they wanted my sexy fat ass to let souls in. Or out." She gestured towards the doorway. "Personally, I wouldn't go there yet if I were you."

"Why not?" the smaller woman had finally found her voice.

Amy smiled, but didn't answer. Rather, she stated decidedly, "I know how you ended up here. Sad story, that."

"You know how I died?"

"Not dead," Amy corrected gently. "Not yet, anyways. And yeah, I know. I know everything about everyone who passes through these doors. You know, guardian to the doors of Limbo here. Someone's got to relay information to the big man."

Beca's eyes widened, "You talk to God? There's a God?"

Amy laughed, "No, not God. Though he sure does think himself one. I'm talking about my boss." Her head turned in an absentminded manner, "No idea if there actually is a God. Haven't met Him yet if there is."

"But what about—"

"I think they're here for you, Beca," Amy gestured behind her. When Beca turned around, she saw her sister standing there with an irritable look on her face along with another man. The man had a mysterious gleam in his eyes, devious; as if he knew something she didn't. As if he'd accepted a challenge of some kind and knew the odds were stacked in his favor. He was handsome, with his hair falling down into his eyes which bore into hers.

"Beca," Stacie began. "Meet my boss, Jesse Jennings. He's the one that runs things down here in Limbo."

Beca looked back up at Amy briefly to see that the cherub forms were nothing more than carved, marble stone—both of them. She felt something grab at her hand and looked back down to see that Jesse had grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips in a kiss. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Beca," he said charmingly. "Welcome to Limbo. Let me show you around."

He held her hand as he pulled her down one of the hallways.

Stacie didn't follow.

* * *

**AN:**

**As it turns out, my roommates are mostly not cool with people who write fanfiction. Except one. Who has no idea that I write it, but she reads some of this stuff. Which is weird to think, but she might actually be reading this now. O.o**

**In any case, I haven't been able to get my computer to work for the last two months or so. I have no idea what's wrong. I'm using a library computer now, and wrote this stuff down on paper during class yesterday. Sorry if it's not up to par, but it's been about two months since I've written anything. The wheels up there in my brain that run things are a little squeaky at the moment.**

**I had no cause to worry about my roommates overall. They're pretty chill, but it wouldn't be me if I didn't overthink things and cover it up with sarcasm and a dash of whipped cream.**

**I have no idea who reviewed last, and honestly I don't have enough time to look (my class is in about five minutes) because I wanted to upload this as soon as I possibly could. Keep me updated on what you think of this, and if you think I'm going in the right direction. I have the faintest ghost of a plotline in my head, but nothing's finalized yet. Mostly I'm writing this on a whim.**

**For anyone interested in my other works, I'm scrapping the chapter I wrote for my other fanfiction _Fire and Ice _because, upon looking at it after my two month hiatus, I hated it. It's going to be from Chloe's POV if possible, but no guarantees because you can't put a cage on creativity. Whatever happens is going to happen.**

**Right, five minutes...**

**Okay, if you liked this fic or have anything to say about this chapter- LEAVE A REVIEW (pretty please with sugar on top) because I'll have no idea what you think otherwise. Or FAV IT because I know this is pretty awesome. What are you guys expecting to see? What do you guys think? So, Limbo, huh? It's a hotel? Leave a comment~**

**Thanks for reading! Truly appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Welcome to Limbo, Continued**

"What are you doing here?"

Chloe jumped to her feet, startled, stuttering, "Mr. Mitchell! I- I was just-"

Warren Mitchell stalked into the room and threw the get well lilies he'd brought for his daughter down on the nightstand next to the hospital bed. The white flowers hit the stand and fell off in the momentum to the floor. He turned towards Chloe in anger, face red and jaw set. "You're not welcome here. I don't want you near my daughter. Get out," he demanded, taking a threatening step towards the red-haired woman.

"Mr. Mitchell- I'm sorry, but I- I just wanted to help-"

"Help?" he growled. "You wanted to help?" Chloe nodded hesitantly, causing Warren to roar out, "You can't help! You're the reason she's in here in the first place!" He pointed towards his daughter's prone form, "She wouldn't be in a coma if it wasn't for you!" By this point, the booming tone of his voice attracted the attention of a passing nurse.

"Sir?" the nurse began in a calming tone. "I'm going to need you to calm down before you disturb the other patients." The woman raised her hands in a soothing motion, but Warren was having none of it.

"It's your fault!" he roared, backing a terrified Chloe into a corner. The nurse attempted to get between the two. "If you hadn't lured her into trusting you—"

– The heart monitor skipped—

"Into befriending you—"

– It spiked—

"Into loving you—"

– The monitor soared—

"Into believing that you were the One—"

– Though it was unheard over Warren's heated tones—

"She wouldn't have gotten a broken heart!" The nurse attempted to push Warren out of the room, calling for security all the while as Warren continued his verbal onslaught.

"I'm sorry!" Chloe repeatedly cried. "I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry won't save her!" Mr. Mitchell called as he was forcefully removed from the room.

– The monitor flat lined.

* * *

As they walked down the hallway, Beca noticed that the grandeur of the initial lobby area seemed to change. The once brilliant marble flooring gradually shifted into cold concrete. The walls were covered in peeling wallpaper. The brightly lit rooms became nothing more than single, bare, dangling light bulbs sparsely spread out.

The boss man, Jesse himself, took to humming cheerfully under his breath as they passed door after door. The hallway was otherwise silent.

"Where the fuck are we going?" Beca asked, patience running thin as she peered distastefully at her surroundings. None of her questions had been answered thus far. Her hand moved to her throat for a moment, searching for the comfort her enormous headphones brought her, but they weren't there.

Jesse smiled indulgently, "We offer many different recreational activities here in Limbo. There's a gym, the pool, a golf course, a dining hall, an amphitheater—" He turned to her conspiratorially. "We have the occasional play or musical, but mostly people like to go up on stage to sing." It was at this point that the two stopped at a particularly dark set of doors. "Or we have my personal favorite, the movie theater." He reached to open the doors and stood there expectantly holding it, waiting for Beca to walk through. She made a face at the thought.

"Well?" he asked. "Aren't you going to step through? We just got a new showing—don't you want to see it?" Beca didn't catch the underlying tone to his voice as she sarcastically answered.

"Couldn't we just relive my parents' divorce? Or visit a gynecologist?"

Jesse's eyes widened, "What? Do you not like movies or something?"

The woman gave a sigh of annoyance.

"Oh my God! You don't like movies! How can you not like movies?" Jesse exclaimed, letting the door slam shut.

"It's not that they're bad," Beca explained. "I just get bored and never make it through to the end. They're so predictable."

"But the endings are the best part!" He waved to the doors behind him, "Hey, I promise if you go through here and watch the movie that it won't be boring. You'll easily make it to the end."

"Look, it's a nice idea and I'm sure you mean well, but could you show me to my room instead? It's been a long day." Indeed, Beca felt exhausted. There were dark circles forming under her eyes, and her face was becoming paler by the second. She felt drained. Everything that had happened in the last hour, the last twenty-four hours, the past week (first with _Her, _and with Chloe, and her dad, the bar; not to mention waking up in Limbo and seeing her sister for the first time in ten years just to find out that she'd died, finding out that she herself is dying, and then there were the talking cherubs—) everything, the trials of the day (How long had it been?) were catching up to her. She wanted to rest.

"Of course," Jesse nodded solemnly. The issue of movies was dropped for now. "If that's what you want."

The two began to walk again. Strangely, if asked to recall the paths she took, Beca wouldn't be able to give an answer. She doesn't quite remember how she got to her room, having followed Jesse. Her mind was foggy. Clouded. By the time they walked up to a rather ordinary looking door, Beca was in a daze. Things were bleached of their color, for some reason. Looking at her arms she saw that it wasn't just the room, but she herself was becoming grey.

Jesse had the door unlocked and was politely holding it open for her.

Beca felt like she was floating into her room as she walked in. "This is your room," Jesse said behind her. "You'll want to call room service at some point or another, but especially if you want to go somewhere. It's easy to get lost in these hallways if you haven't been here for long. Give me a call and I'll get you where you're going." He began to back out of the room as Beca lightly perched at the edge of the queen sized bed, smoothing out the crisp covers with her hands. "It is my job after all." Beca found it difficult to focus, her mind spinning and seeming to focus on unimportant things. She could've sworn that Jesse's eyes were glowing for a second.

"Okay," she answered distractedly. "Thanks Jesse."

"Anytime," he murmured as he clicked off the light and stepped out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him.

Beca kicked off her shoes and laid down to sleep, pulling the covers over her. She wasn't comfortable, so she rolled over and waited, eyes closed. An hour past, she rolled over again. Another hour, she sneezed. She shifted her body. Her head felt so heavy, and she knew if she opened her eyes that her vision would be swimming. What she wouldn't give in order to rest for just a few minutes! But it seemed as if sleep would escape her.

"Did you mean it?" someone asked. Beca opened her eyes in the darkness to see a shrouded figure sitting on the edge of her bed looking at her. Its voice was distorted, the curious tone of a child, the compassionate feel of a mother, the protective care of a father. "When you said that you'd give anything to sleep, did you mean it?"

Unconcerned and partially unconscious, sure that this was part of some hallucinatory dream, she mumbled, "Yes." It was as if that wasn't her that were answering. "Anything."

The figure smiled warmly at her, and reached out to gently touch her eyelids, gently sliding them shut. "Then sleep…"

And Beca's eyes closed, she fell asleep. In her sleep, the phantom beating of her heart slowed, and gradually stopped.

The monitor flat lined.

* * *

"Time moves differently in Limbo," a voice explained. It was her sister, Stacie. "One minute the sun could be rising, the next the middle of the night." She sighed as she leaned back in the arm chair. "It's like only yesterday that I died. My boyfriend at the time? Not as nice a guy as I originally thought."

The older brunette leaned forward in the chair. "You don't want to end up like me, Becs," she stated seriously, eyes locked with her sister's. "Wake up. You can't fall asleep in Limbo."

* * *

"Clear!" the doctor ordered as he pressed the paddles to the woman's chest. The body jumped at the electrical impulse, but did not respond.

Immediately, he started to rub the two pads against one another. "Again!" he said as the other doctors rushed about him. "Ready? Clear!" The woman's body jumped again.

Chloe was still backed into the corner where she had been from earlier, crying as she watched the scene. The doctors didn't care if she was there or not so long as she was out of the way.

"There's not much we can do!" someone said, frustrated. "She's already flat lined! It's not working!"

"Damnit, don't give up on me! C'mon!" the doctor was sweating but determined. One more time, he thought. "Clear!"

And the heart monitor jumped—then fell back into a steady rhythm.

"We've got a pulse!" another exclaimed. "She's breathing!"

"Thank God," someone sighed.

The doctor wiped his brow, thankful to have the girl alive. He set down the paddles and stepped away from the girl as he turned to one of the hands on duty, "You! Get me her charts! Run more tests! This shouldn't have happened today, there's something we're missing."

The other immediately left the room.

"Miss?" a nurse asked, lightly touching Chloe's arm to get her attention. The red head hadn't even noticed her. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now. The doctors have work to do."

"Wait! No- I-" Chloe was lead from the room.

* * *

Gasping, she woke up from her slumber to the greyscale nightmare she'd swore was a dream before. What's going on? There was a simple note on her nightstand along with a bundle of wilted white flowers. "On the house this time Beca," it read. "See you again soon…"

The card wasn't signed, but Beca had an idea who it was from. Frantically, she threw on her shoes, stumbling about because she felt like death, and ran from the room. Immediately, her mind felt foggy again. It was hard to think. Remembering what Jesse said, she turned around to go back into her room, but all the doors looked the same. She couldn't recall which room was hers, which number she had, and all the doors she tried to open were locked.

And suddenly it wasn't just her mind that was foggy, but the hallway as well. There was a fine white mist that reached out to her like some ghastly form. Terrified, Beca ran from its grasping clutches. She didn't know what would happen if she let the fog touch her. She knew it wasn't a good thing; she could feel its evil intentions.

As she ran down the hallways, the doors themselves seemed to mold into each other until there was one door and only the one door that Beca continuously passed. A set of doors, dark. Again, and again. It was like Beca was running in circles. That phantom beating of her heart was racing again in fear, the knowledge that the fog was catching up to her. It was so difficult to deny the fog, combined with her muddy thoughts at the moment, she began to forget the fear she had in the first place.

Why was she afraid again? What was she running from? The fog? It didn't seem so important, so dangerous, or so bad. The fog became a good thing. Beca began to slow down to a walk, confused of her shortness of memory. Wait, what was it that was wrong again? Or was there something right?

But—

Here, before her, there was a dark set of doors.

Just as the fog reached out its ghastly claws to drag her into its folds, Beca opened the doors and walked in, leaving the rolling masses of white to clutch at nothing.

* * *

**AN:**

**And so I've written more. Pretty sure my roommates think I'm weird, but that's okay. Yesterday, as I was writing this in a notebook, one of them walked into the room. "Homework?" she asked. "Nope," I replied. "A story?" she tried again. "That's a possibility," I stated. "A diary?" third try's the charm... but "No," I stated. "Not a diary." She gave me a look of disbelief. I just looked away.**

**So yeah. I'm weird.**

**But we already knew that. :)**

**In any case, I'm excited for where this is going. The path becomes clearer with each chapter I write. Hope it'll all eventually make sense because it's not supposed to make much at this point.**

Snow White Misery:** Lol, you're right! All that worrying was for nothing! But, I can't help it :P It's one of my quirks. I'm so relieved they're actually nerdy like me, you have no idea. Glad you're excited for me to be back! On Hotel California, it was after I finished writing the second chapter that I was likewise reminded of the song. Then I had a revelation, why don't people write fanfiction for songs? Sometimes, the songs or the lyrics are so perfect that an actual story needs to be put to the words- and then I realized there are song fics... and I'm actually not quite sure how I feel about some of those. But I think I mean maybe just fanfiction about the song? I don't know where I'm going with this. Just pretend I make sense ;) In any case, YOU WILL FIND OUT SOON ENOUGH! These things come in fragments and pieces. But I will tell you that CR will be entering in the next chapter. Thanks for the response! Glad you're enjoying it.**

Rubiksmaniac: **I could be wrong, but I think you reviewed before too... While I'd written most of this chapter down on paper already, it was actually your review that spurred me to type it all up and post this chapter today. So thanks for that~ Is this soon enough for you?**

dullLogic: **What? Jesse, creepy? No, what? Nooo... pshh. You're, you my friend. Ha! So funny. Jesse creepy? Couldn't be happening. Cherub Amy though? I can promise you that she will make a reappearance! Because, you're right, we all love her.**

Shortstack13: **Chloe is by her bedside... Hmm... Curious... Glad you're enjoying the supernatural aspect! To be honest, I'm a little worried sometimes that I'm not doing this idea justice... Hope this chapter's good.**

Special thanks to everyone else because, WOW, I am getting some good feedback on this! Which really surprises me. You cannot believe. I got a lot of questions and responses a couple of months ago, and I wish that I could respond to them all (but someone needs to use this computer and I'd like to upload this now because I won't be able to come back to the library later) O.o All I'd like to say now on the matter of Chloe is... you'll find out. 3:) The next chapter will be the second day in Limbo; CR will be introduced. Maybe, possibly, some questions will be answered? Who knows. Maybe if... nah. Nah. You'll see.

Also, in regard to all the spelling or grammar mistakes I've been seeing in my writing, really sorry for that! It's a big pet peeve of mine (though, you know, I'm not a genius as much as I'd like to be in order to pass my Anthropology class)... but I'm too lazy to go back and fix things at this point. I'll go back eventually when I'm annoyed enough. Just wait.

Last thing: Reviews are a good thing.

Just keep that in mind. :)

Love y'all! Thanks again!


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 2: We Have Cookies**

She walked into a movie theater. Here, set on at gentle rise, were rows upon rows of seats. There at the front of the room was a large white screen dangling down proudly. At her feet was a red-carpet pathway lit by twinkling little lights on either side. Beca followed it up towards the seats still mildly dazed and unsure about what might've just happened.

The theater was mostly empty. Each seat appeared in a disarray; dusty and unused. The floors were littered with stale pieces of popcorn, plastic candy wrappers and piles of debris. Beca almost tripped over a stray box as she moved towards the only other person in the room. The other girl didn't look away room the blank screen as Beca sat down next to her.

Almost immediately, the house lights dimmed until the room was encased in black. The projector turned on in a flutter of sounds. A flicker on the screen as the machine warmed up and then, as if growing in confidence, the machine steadily projected images onto the canvas in a gaining speed. Soon enough, there weren't separate images but a movie playing smoothly across the screen before them.

The stranger's jaw clenched, and her fists twisted on the arm rests of her seat.

Sitting silently from one of the rows towards the middle back of the room beside the dark skinned woman, Beca watched a story unfold. And yet, as the movie progressed in a steady rhythm of abstract sounds and moments, the movie theater seemed to take up a life of its own. The dust and debris disappeared in a gradual transition from there one moment to gone the next. Each of the seats seemed to adjust themselves, straightening and fixing their otherwise imperfect existence. The trash that had been strewn about the theater no longer was there. Rather, taking a place in each of the seats, there came a strange puzzle of movement. Shadows existed where there should have been none, and the seats seemed to fill up with ghosts. Apparitions, maybe, but each surely there with one foot among the living and one among the dead. It startled Beca, whose own phantom pulse seemed to beat faster, and whose attention was no longer retained by the screen. The girl beside her remained unsurprised, and had no visible effect about the others attending the show but unconcern.

And then…

There was a visible change in the movie. Rather than mismatched pieces of video that didn't seem to make sense, something clicked. It started out with sunshine, and palm trees flying by in the warmth of a day. There was a silver truck on the screen. It was a beautiful day. There were no other sounds except for the sudden loud peals of laughter that conveyed pure happiness. It was then that Beca noticed that the girl beside her was the star of the movie because—there! Sitting in the driver's seat of the truck, holding the hand of a woman whose mouth was open in joy and laughter, was the woman sitting beside her now. The singular difference between the two being that in the movie the dark-skinned woman looked full, and happy, and alive with life. The woman whose hand the driver was holding was attempting to contain her joy. The driver, who was the woman beside Beca, turned to beam at her passenger. Even Beca, who knew not either of the two and had but the toughest of experiences concerning it on her own, could discern that they were in love.

"Her name was Denice," said the girl from beside Beca. Beca took her eyes away from the screen to look at her neighbor, who remained enthralled by the women on screen. "We'd been dating for three years, and gay marriage was legalized in California. I was going to propose to her later that day."

There was the sudden screeching of tires on asphalt that had Beca turning back to see the two women in the vehicle frantically trying to stop the truck. Denice turned to look at her girlfriend in the movie, but the other woman had both hands on the wheel now and was trying to break, twisting the wheel hard to the right. The truck spun sideways, squealing, the attempt to avoid a car which had careened from the oncoming lane into their own not working. There was the sound of a horn blaring as the car hit the side of the truck in a crunch of metal as the truck easily gave in to pressure of the other vehicle. The car was stopped, and yet the truck rolled over the car in its own momentum and flew up into the air. It spun once, twice, and smashed down on the side before slipping over onto the roof. It slid across the road in a scrape before it fully slowed to a stop.

Both women were dangling upside down in the truck, unconscious, suspended there by their seatbelts even as glass shattered around them. Faintly, then, other sounds began to leak into the scene. Other cars stopped, car doors slamming closed, the sounds of feet on pavement, people screaming, someone calling for help. The driver and the passenger of the other car were crushed in the wreckage of their vehicle.

The two hands of the woman rested side by side on the roof of the truck, inches apart, as if they'd been searching for the comfort the other would offer but couldn't quite reach.

The screen fluttered to black, and then the projector turned off altogether. Gradually, the phantom apparitions around the theater disappeared. The house lights flickered on, revealing that the trash and debris that was thought to have gone before had been there the whole time. Beca sat beside the stranger in a now empty, abandoned, trashed theater. Neither said a word for a few moments. Beca gathered her thoughts.

"I don't know what happened to her," said the woman. "If she died and ended up here, or if she passed on to Beyond Limbo. Maybe she's waiting here somewhere for me. Maybe she's not here at all." The woman turned to look at her now, giving Beca her undivided attention. "My name's Cynthia-Rose. You are?"

"Beca," she replied. "Beca Mitchell."

CR smirked, "Well, 'sup Beca? It's nice to meet you." She offered a fist, to which Beca pounded in return. "So, are you…?"

It took Beca a moment to catch onto her implication. "Oh, dude, no! No, I'm not dead. Not yet anyway." Beca chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of her neck.

Cynthia Rose laughed and leaned back in her seat, appearing relieved. "Good," she said. "Not that I have anything against ghosts or whatever, but I'm so glad I'm not the only one still alive."

"You're still alive?" Beca asked, surprised.

"Yeah," CR said carefully. "I've been in a coma, on Earth, for 'bout three months I think."

Alarmed, "You've been here for three months?"

"Dude, no! Fuck, I've been in a coma on Earth for about three months. Here in Limbo," her eyes furrowed in thought. "I've been here for about four days. Yeah, four days sounds about right." She ticked the days off on her fingers absentmindedly. "Has it only been four days?" She glanced over to see Beca appearing confused. "I'm sure you know by now that time moves differently here?"

Beca nodded.

"Well, maybe you don't know this yet, but we've only got seven days in Limbo." CR leaned back in her seat.

"Seven days?"

"Seven days," CR agreed. "I think it comes from some biblical thing," she rolled her eyes. "Not that it matters much to me anyway. In any case, yeah. Seven days. Six to figure out where you stand, and judgment on the seventh."

"Wait, Cynthia-Rose, am I going to die in seven days?"

"No," said another familiar voice. "You have six days now." Jesse slid into the seat beside Beca.

Something flashed in CR's eyes as she acknowledged the man beside Beca.

"Cynthia-Rose," Jesse nodded a hello before flashing an easy grin at Beca. "But it really isn't as bad as it sounds. And, if you don't like what fate you're given, you're always welcome to stay here with us. I'm sure we could find a job for you."

Beca made a face as she glanced around the theater, the lights were starting to dim again. "Yes, because I'd be completely at home here." She shook her head, "No, I think I'd rather die."

"Shh!" a ghost hissed, twisting around to glare at her. "The next show's about to start!"

And, indeed, more phantoms appeared in the seats as the room blackened once more. The projector flickered on and Jesse and Cynthia-Rose twisted around in the seats beside her to look back at the screen. "I rather like this one," Jesse smiled excitedly as the projector once again took its sweet old time to play. Beca ignored him even as her hands fisted on the arm rests at the sudden sickening feeling of danger that struck her. A feeling prickling at her senses, that screamed at her to turn away—but it was too late.

Because there she was, on the screen in a familiar scene, downing shot after shot as people pressed in around her and the music played, swaying atop her barstool. She hadn't known but in the background, behind her on the dance floor, there was Chloe dancing with Tom… except, as Beca took her final shot, Chloe saw her. Chloe's face twisted into a guilty, pained, longing expression; those electric blue eyes searching for Beca's own. As the Beca on screen stumbled off the barstool, the motion seemed to startle Chloe out of her thoughts and away from the male that was pressed against her. She saw Chloe walking away from Tom, following Beca from a distance as Beca walked through the bathroom door.

Beca watched herself distastefully and drunkenly puking up in the toilet, sloppily wiping the mess away before tumbling over onto the floor. What followed next made Beca grimace at herself, even as it called up the familiar feelings of betrayal and broken-heartedness. As the Beca on screen fell unconscious with blood dripping absentmindedly down her face (had she really hit her head so hard?) she heard someone calling for her that she hadn't heard before. Chloe.

"Beca—" there were feet at the stall of the door as someone entered the bathroom. They nearly tripped over her own where they were peaking beneath the stall door. With a slightly startled, alarmed tone, she called again, "Beca?" She knocked on the stall worriedly, frantically pounding on the door which easily gave way. Beca hadn't locked it in her drunk stupor after all. Chloe pushed through the door and into the stall easily, barely having glanced at the brunette laying on the floor below her before she kneeled down beside her. Terrified, Chloe ripped off part of her sleeve and wrapped it around Beca's head as her other hand fumbled to call an ambulance. Worried at the stark contrast of the red blood dripping down Beca's increasingly pale face, Chloe tried again to garner some sort of alertness from the smaller woman. "Can you hear me?"

Beca's eye lids fluttered on the screen pitifully. A garbled, inarticulate sound fell from her lips as Beca choked and fell into complete unconsciousness.

Of all the things Chloe expected to find Beca doing in the bathroom when she followed her in, it wasn't this. A whispered plea of her name; "Rebeca?"

The screen went black when Beca's memory ended.

* * *

"C'mon Chloe!" Tom exasperatedly implored as he reached for the redhead's shoulder. She angrily pulled away from him. "You can't keep waiting on a girl you broke up with! It's been nearly a month already, get over it!"

Glaring at the boy, Chloe heatedly argued, "Just because I broke up with her doesn't mean I don't care for her."

He rolled his eyes, "You broke up with her to be with me, remember? You made your choice. Fricking hell, wasn't that your plan all along anyway?" Chloe opened her mouth to snipe out some answer, but Tom continued, "You told me yourself. The only reason you were even with her in the first place was to break her. You didn't actually love her." Tom grabbed Chloe's hand and pulled her close, attempting to make the girl understand.

Except that she did love the tiny brunette currently laying on the hospital bed. She does love her. She's in love with Beca. And Chloe does understand. She's made the biggest mistake she's ever made, and now she may never get to have a second chance.

As Tom held her in a warm embrace, Chloe burst out in tears. She clutched onto his shirt, and he comforted her. "It's okay to feel guilt, maybe you didn't mean for it to go this far, but that's not your fault. Beca's a big girl. It was her own decisions that led her to this, not yours. You're not to blame." He rubbed her back, and though he was there for her Chloe knew that he didn't understand. He'd never viewed Beca as a person, especially not as someone equal to him. Beca had only ever been that freaky girl, he'd encouraged Chloe's plan at the time.

The plan being that she'd worm her way into Beca's heart just to break it in the end. To force Beca to feel something. To "take her off her pedestal" as Tom had once so eloquently described it. And it had been so easy to be with Beca, to get her to fall in love with Chloe. It had gotten to the point where if Chloe told her to jump, she would've asked how high. Told her to jump off a bridge, and Beca would've done it. Beca was like a puppy in that manner. She would've done anything Chloe told her to do. She'd go above and beyond the call of duty, do anything to make Chloe happy. It was so easy. Just, in all the mess of playing with Beca, Chloe hadn't noticed that she herself had fallen in love too.

"You can't keep waiting here for her to wake up. It's been a month already. She might not even wake up. There's no point waiting on someone worthless like her. Let's just go," Tom kissed Chloe's forehead and attempted to lead Chloe from the room. She tugged her hand out of his abruptly, causing Tom to pause. "Chloe?"

"You can go, Tom," Chloe sniffled, wiping at her eyes. She turned away from him and walked back to Beca's bedside, sitting in the uncomfortable chair that she'd been stationed at nearly every day for the past three weeks.

"What?"

"You're right. Maybe she won't wake up, but I'm going to wait. You can go." Chloe reached for Beca's cold, unmoving hand to hold in her own.

"You're choosing her over me? Seriously?"

Chloe had to think about it. Maybe with love she shouldn't have to think, but Chloe had already so easily broken one person's heart that she was reluctant to break another if she thought it would lead to this. Above that, there was a time that she loved Tom. Where she was exactly like him. With sudden clarity, however, she realized that neither had been in love with one another. She realized that maybe his pride would be wounded, but neither of them would be torn up over the loss of the other. He'd probably get over her within a week, maybe less.

"Yes," Chloe stated decisively. "We're over."

With that, Tom left the room and Chloe was left to her thoughts. She didn't notice Beca's hand minutely tighten in her own, a small flex and burst of warmth that ended in the beat of a second. Regardless of not noticing it, Chloe was suddenly filled with hope. Hope that someday soon, Beca would wake up and all of this would get sorted out.

* * *

**AN:**

**Well, things have equally been going better and worse. Grades are picking up, Thanksgiving's coming up, my birthday's coming up, and there're lots of things to do on campus. Downside is that there's some sort of tenseness among my roommates. Arguments have been happening, and I'm absolutely useless when it comes to confrontations. I can't choose sides, and therefore am stuck in the middle of what's soon to be an all out war. Something like this was bound to happen. You can't live with people for a few months without having at least one argument. I'm keeping one step back from it all, but whatever. Girl drama. Sorry it's taken me a bit longer to upload than usual.**

**In any case, in regards to this story, there are going to be seven days. However, there won't be specific days assigned to each new chapter that I upload. Like, the next chapter won't be the start of a new day. It'll be a continuation of Day 2. Remember that time has no boundaries in Limbo, if that makes any sense.**

**With that said, shout out to everyone that's favorited or reviewed or is following the story.**

**To Snow White Misery: See! I knew you would understand what I was trying to say about song fics. The other cherub may or may not be Bumper ;) . You'll just have to see. And what? Gasp! The reactions between Beca and Jesse seemed kind of fake? Oh no! How terrible! It's just… no! It can't be! I can't believe it seemed fake! Fakeness? What? No! No, Jesse and Beca reacted perfectly normally in that chapter; not stale and slightly fake and like Beca didn't want to be close to Jesse who was the opposite! They were normal! Things were normal! It's fine! Yep! (Don't worry about being a downer, I get what you're saying completely and I thank you for your honesty, but I can't reveal anything incriminating.) Thanks a million for your review! Keep being observational-**

**To HermioneSakuraGardner07 and Rubiksmaniac: Thanks for your reviews and the continued support! You won't believe how much I live for it-**

**Thanks for reading everyone! I appreciate it immensely and entirely. Hope everyone has a wonderful day or night.**


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